Strange thing about them skate road trips I'm going on with Neddy lately, is that I'm always hangover. I don't know why really, I try to be good and pace myself, but no, it's always the same. It's got to be some kind of karma thing, you got drunk, you've been a bad boy, now you've got to spend the whole day with Neddy to pay for it. Damn, it's as feeling like shit is not bad enough already! On top of that you've have Neddy's annoying squeaky voice bouncing back and forth inside of your (rather empty) brain until you ears bleed. Fuck, I'd rather have my finger nails ripped out by jew-hating, homophobic, goal scoring Germans (4-1 really hurts...), while my eye balls are being push inside of my skull by chocolate bars wielding humpalumpas on a crack binge, than do that again.
But karma has strange ways, I'm not the only one to have suffered there. Neddy managed to unleash the full power of the angry almighty god of destruction, the brewstinator! And boy did he pay for it! He was shouted at like a little rent boy who didn't perform his swallowing duties!
Anyways, it was a very nice day, and we drove down to Portsmouth for a street skate and a swim. We went to the university spot, which is pretty sweet and chilled. Really cool grass bit under the shade for people recovering from alcohol abuse.
After couple hours we went to a school with three nice plastic benches. The only problem was to try to control Neddy and his raging hormones. He was skating back and forth between the benches trying to find young boys to fiddle with... or maybe he was just following people trying to get their lines down... Who knows, I will let you decide (little boys is it, I tell you!!!).
We finally ended up at the Portsmouth beach front, right next to the pier.
I'm proud to say that I was the only one to man up and have a dip in it.
After the compulsory icecream, burger and some disappointing stone skipping (yeap, Portsmouth's pebbles are crap), we headed back to Oxford with a little stop on top a hill to enjoy the view one last time.
Oh, before I forget, it seems that people down south might like Neddy, at least it's what this sign suggests...
Boy must they must be a bunch of retarded inbred rednecks for that!
Anyways, I do pride myself on my positive thinking, so to finish on a good point, I say that this sign suggest that maybe, just maybe, Neddy's not such a lost case after all. There's got to be one farmgirl (or boy as my present post is strongly suggesting so far) that will make this little shrimp happy one day. You just have to keep on digging Neddy, go my boy, dig as deep as you possibly can with your creepy crooked hobbit's fingers!
Anyways, i have to lay off the Neddy for a bit. I hope you'll excuse my french during this last post. I'm sorry, just can't help being myself...
Spelling mistakes corrected for you Baguette. Neddy.